


Blood First

by Baphiwens



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, F/M, Magic, Sex, Torture, Wandless Magic, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baphiwens/pseuds/Baphiwens
Summary: They had made their choice. Rather than live their lives in solitude, they had chosen to go through the Veil. Now reborn as one of the three sons of Merope Peverell, the Lord of the Woodlands, Harry and Tom must forge a new path, but this time, in a much more dangerous game.(AU) Not slash.
Kudos: 22





	Blood First

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd.

There, upon the dais, the tall stone pointed archway that surrounded it stood. Inside the rectangular rocks, the black, shimmering curtains of The Veil fluttered silently - its deathly whispers reaching them even at the distance they stood. The natural light coming from the ceiling seemed to give it a more ancient appearance than it already emanated, and it made the uneven dark stone steps leading to it look wet.

"They're louder than I remember them," Harry whispered, and even that seemed to tire him - a drop of sweat slid gently down his dirty cheek.

"No," Tom disagreed from next to him, "They aren't. Last you were here, you were distracted, distraught with my followers chacing you - attempting to come up with a means of escape, worried about your friends. You were unfocused, the soft voices coming from it were the last of your worries."

A shiver ran through Harry's spine as he recalled the incident and the battles that had ensued that day. The feeling of helpless that overtook him when his friends had been held at wand point, and the rage he felt when he lost Sirius. He had been through a lot as of recent years, he had experienced things that made that day look like a play-date, but even so, the events that had unfolded that night stuck to him closely

"What are you two -!" The stunner hit the ministry official in the chest before he could even draw up a shield, and he fell to the floor - silent.

"I didn't think I was going to much help if he had managed to muster up a defence there, heh," Harry meant for it to come out as a joke, but his tired voice made it sound like more of a thankful statement, "Do you suppose this is the best way to go about it?"

Tom Riddle nodded, "I would rather have this than live my entire life in hiding. I've done that too much already. Prison isn't something the ministry has planned for us, you know that. And then there's the potential problem with...you..." The black-haired man drawled.

Harry did. They had taken him once when he had been forced to leave his obligatory seclusion to confirm a piece of evidence pointing to the existence of the masked wizard that had proclaimed himself Ragnorak. He expected to be given the kiss, or to be thrown into the very thing they were about to jump into - but it had been much more for him. He had never known magic could induce such levels of pain.

It was not to even to gather information that he was tortured. It looked to be a sort of therapy for all that had looked on - the onlookers at shed tears of joy at his cries, had smiled at his tears and had adored the sight of his blood. No, he would never be ready for that level of suffering. Death was preferable if that was truly what they were about to throw themselves to.

But what he wanted really did not matter. He _had_ to die. There was no choice that could be made here, no vote to be taken - for the good of all, his existence needed to cease here and now.

He took a step forward.

"Are _you_ sure you want to do this, however?" Tom stopped him, despite himself.

"You know I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do," The former dark-lord turned to him, an eyebrow raised, "You're more than capable of avoiding the ministry, and if I were to jump in alone - the Death Stick would fall to you. As such, because you possess the other hollows - you would be unstoppable."

"The ministry isn't the problem, Tom," Harry argued, a groan escaping his lips. He felt a headache coming along. Having absolutely no interest to be the master of death, the only reason he hadn't given Tom Riddle the cloak of invisibility was because it had been in the Potter family for generations, he couldn't throw it away just because he didn't want it. If it was going, it was going with him - if not, no one else would hold onto it.

"You are well aware of what'll... happen -"

"You mean what I'll become?"

"What will happen," Riddle insisted, his stare blank, "It wouldn't be difficult for you to avoid it. Take every precaution, do not be complacent -"

"I don't think," Harry paused briefly, gathering his thoughts, "If this 'Ragnarok' was from when he says he was, wouldn't that mean this has already happened? That they had already stopped him, but even so, there was something that occurred that _made_ this supposedly all-powerful magical being take this particular path again. Blimey, Tom, it could be this. I probably chose to not to go into the Veil now, and then... I -"

"Alright," Tom sighed, edging forward towards the Veil. Harry only stared at his back, but he stopped short of the dark shimmering curtains of the old object, "Five, Harry."

"Uh... Sorry?"

"Five. Five houses, five of some of the most ancient bloodlines - the Potters, Gaunts, Fleamont, Peverell, Slytherin, - all of them, wiped out because of the two of us refuse to live... I'm inclined to call us fools for letting all that history spill into nothingness," He sounded displeased, almost angry - but Harry knew he wasn't second-guessing this, he was only frustratingly thinking of the effects it would have.

"There are others who have our blood, so all those houses won't be completely annihilated."

"Harry, we've both supremely inherited our magical bloodlines. There are _no_ others, everyone else's blood is far too diluted to inherit anything in our names. Normally, ours would be too - but we're their _direct_ descendants, and that's what makes us different, so powerful. We're oddities."

"We're also quite modest."

"You're funny," Tom shook his head, his gaze still set ahead of him. He shook his head, another matter coming into mind, "What are we gonna do with the Deathly Hallows?"

"Throw them in, of course," Harry began trudging up the step, towards Tom and the Veil, "If that doesn't work, we destroy them here and now."

Tom was quiet for a long moment, and Harry began to grow worried. They wouldn't have time to destroy them if they waited any longer, soon enough - the unconscious aurors absence would be noted, and then they would come running and stop them from going through it. Harry had just been involved in the longest battle of his life, and would be no good in another. He was tired, and his magical reserves were near empty.

The Riddle flicked his wrist, and the Death Stick slid into his hand - he raised it warily. It always seemed to whisper insidious thoughts, vengeful murmurs, and silent threats. It was a wand whose wood was as dark as night - wood that would corrupt anyone but it's chosen wielder. Though, Harry had learned - the extent of its negative effects could almost be ignored if you shared its creators' blood deeply.

Without any word or warning - Tom threw the wand want into the contorting magic. It stopped inside the Veil, neither disappearing nor shimmering out of existence. And for some reason, Harry knew what to do and from the expectant look he received from his cousin, he did too. His hand fell into the pockets of his tattered robe, rummaging through the extended mess for a minute before retracting his arm, the invisibility cloak in hand.

"Please pull out the stone from my pockets with magic, there's so much in there," Harry walked up to the veil, and threw the folded cloak into it - he barely felt the stone float out of his pocket. The cloak unfolded on it's on in the wavering magic - as if being laid flat on a bed. The wand changed its position, entering into the right sleeve - covering the handle of the object, leaving only the upper-half towards the tip visible from the fabric of the cloak.

The Riddle threw the Ressurection Stone at the chest of the cloak, but it too shifted, completely disappearing into the left sleeve.

"That's -!"

A blinding, white light exploded from the veil - making both of them stagger back, with Harry actually falling to the floor, covering his eyes. The hairs at the back of his head rose, and he fumbled for his wand - intent on fighting with the little energy he had if whatever was happening here would unleash something that would threaten their lives. The amount of magic that came with the wand was palpable and made the air sting slightly.

But it soon disappeared, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there - Harry heard shouting from the corridor that led into the room.

"The bloody hell was that?"

"I don't know, but get off your arse - even the weakest of them would've felt that. If we're truly doing this, we need to go," Tom offered Harry his hand, which he gratefully took with his free hand, " _Are_ we truly doing this?"

"We're doing it," Harry gathered himself, slowly walking to the Veil until it was mere inches from his face, "The voices are still incoherent, even from this close. What is this?"

"Find out," Tom urged. Harry fell forward, silently shimmering out of their plane of existence - with his wand still in hand. More shouting from the corridor and Tom quickly pulled out his Phoenix Feather wand, turning his back to the Veil whilst raising it. He wrote down his firey message, for all of them to see and one day remember. Perhaps then they would recognize their faults, understand what they had been turned into - when they realise the warning came from someone they had perceived as an enemy.

The door burst open, and he fell back. His message still floated some distance from the Veil, levitating in the air with silent dread - simple words that would forever be remembered in the world of wizards and witches:

**'You have doomed yourselves.'**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.


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